Vision
by kato-the-perv
Summary: Fischer and La Cour decide on being flatmates. At first everything looks perfect but on their first day in the apartment, La Cour has a "vision". Now he needs to confront the feelings he never knew he had. Meanwhile they both must also focus on a straining murder case of a young boy. Would they succeed in solving all the mysteries?
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Fischer and La Cour decide on being flatmates. At first everything looks perfect but on their first day in the apartment, La Cour has a "vision". Now he needs to confront the feelings he never knew he had. Meanwhile they both must also focus on a straining murder case of a young boy. Would they succeed in solving all the mysteries?

Author's note: Please note that I took some liberty with the plot of "Rejseholdet". The story takes place somewhere in season 3 close to Fischer getting his haircut ('cause I think he looked adorable). I ignore whole Ida plot - I disliked her for some reason and am presuming in this story that Fischer just left his wife and lost custody over the son. I also presumed La Cour in the end left Helen as he was not feeling up to the role of a father. Beside those facts I tried to make the characters believable.

Of course, I own nothing although Mads cooking in my kitchen would be nice.

I'm not a native English speaker so I apology for any errors or unnatural sounding wording.:) 

Chapter 1

"C'mon, buddy," Fischer was practically begging when they were getting out of the car.

" I don't know, man..." La Cour sighed. "You already owe me a lot of cash."

"That's exactly my point! If we share flat, we would split the rent and I could piece by piece return your money," Fischer lighted a cigarette like he always used to when they arrived at their destination. "Listen, I live in a run-down hotel which is eating away most of the money I make. That's ridiculous!"

Thomas looked at him and knew the man made a point there. However, he was still reluctant when it came to living together with someone. He had a talent for driving people away. He really liked Fischer and didn't want to ruin their friendship.

"You and me are perfect match for flatmates. We both single, screwed up our relationships with women, both have kids and both are policemen working in the same team," Fischer listed with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. "And, of course, I like you."

"Thanks, man, that was touching," Thomas mocked and smiled.

Fischer was right, if they already hadn't driven each other crazy, probably nothing would happen if they live together.

"Alright, alright, you win," La Cour gave up.

Fischer's face suddenly bloomed with joy. He smiled so wide that his fangs were showing.

"Really?" he asked like a child given permission to eat an ice-cream.

"Yeah," Thomas smiled sheepishly as Fischer's enthusiasm was contagious.

Alan gave away a winning shriek sounding like "Yeehee" and with all the force grabbed La Cour by shoulders and gave him a smooch on the cheek. Then he almost run up the stairs to the police station.

"What am I getting myself into?" thought La Cour and still stunned, followed his friend.

Of course, everybody else was already present so they took seats nearest the exit and waited for the chief inspector to start.

"Okay, since everyone is here, I'll start…" said a middle-aged man who was apparently the boss here. The room grew quiet and he continued by showing them some photos on the whiteboard.

"The victim… boy is Michael Price, age 5. Found dead in the ditch near the entry road to the city. A man who found him, erm… John Fry is a common drunk. He fell down the ditch while going back home on feet from drinking party with his buddies. He luckily managed to stop a police car by walking to the middle of the road. Although completely drunk he stuttered about the corpses. The body was on the other side of the town from the nursery where the boy had last been seen. The Prices' house is not far from the nursery. Teachers claim that the boy, since he was 4, walked home alone as his parents worked till late. Apparently, he was given the key to the apartment. He either disappeared walking home or was kidnapped from the house."

"Was there any indication of break-in?" interrupted Ingrid.

"We're checking it. But for now, haven't found anything."

"What about the drunk?" asked IP taking some notes.

"He has fast alibi – been drinking in the pub with lots of people inside. Besides, he's really a harmless guy. We were lucky that he found the body and stopped the police."

"So nobody saw anything suspicious in the nursery?" Fischer asked, his face now stern and focused, so unlike the child-like expression he had worn outside the building. "He was a 5-year-old walking home alone, goddammit!"

"Yeah," the police officer was not comfortable under the scrutinizing gaze of the short-haired man. "We share your concern. The director of the nursery intervened with the parents as soon as she found out about the solitary walks but they assured her they live nearby and no tragedy ever occurred. It was alarming but nothing could be done without the parents cooperation. The teacher says that she always watched the boy until she lost sight of him behind the corner. After that he needed to walk straight past a few houses and there was his house. She was also concerned but had other children to take care of. No witnesses so far."

"How long was the boy missing before you found the body?" asked La Cour focusing all attention on him.

"Not even a day…" the constable shook his head in disbelief. "He didn't come home from the nursery about 4 p.m., but since the parents were working late, they informed us only at 9 p.m. We started our search by interviewing people and followed the boy's usual path. John Fry found the body at 5 a.m."

"Okay, I think we all know what to do," Ingrid stood up and took the floor. "Fischer is responsible for interviews, La Cour – crime scene, Gaby – reports and IP…"

"The rest," finished the older man with a smile like he always used to.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was a tough day for everyone. Child cases were always the worst, especially when it came to murder. Fischer visited distraught parents and couldn't help sympathizing with them in this tragedy as a father of a boy himself. Then he made his way to the nursery and asked a few questions but it was hard to find any point he could stick to. He asked Michael's teacher to come the following day as it seemed that she was the last person who saw him alive. Unfortunately, he couldn't interview John Fry as the man was so drunk he barely sat straight. He mumbled incoherently about the horror and tragedy and it seems he was also shaken by this murder. He put him in custody so the man would sober up but he knew it would take at least one night sleep. So in the end he found himself in their mobile office reviewing all the notes taken during the investigation looking for any clue. In fact, he was waiting for La Cour to return from his errands as he was hoping to move out of his hotel room as soon as possible. Thomas came back about an hour later and looked weary. Fischer knew instantly that the man had one of his "visions" and it surely wasn't pleasant.

"Any news?" he asked casually.

The dark haired man sat behind his desk and thanked Gaby as she handed him a cup of coffee.

"It wasn't a stranger. It was someone the boy knew and trusted. I had this…" he cleared his throat. "This premonition. The murderer liked the child. Killing wasn't planned."

"He killed him accidentally?" Fischer questioned.

"Yes, I think something must have gone wrong…"

"Yeah," nodded Alan as he didn't feel like continuing this talk. It was much too cruel and every time he thought about Michael, he saw the face of his own son.

"You ok to call it a day?" he asked La Cour suddenly.

Thomas raised his brow questioningly.

"What do you have in mind?

"I thought… well, you agreed on the flatmate thing and I'm paying quite high for the hotel room… I could move in. Like, today," Fischer explained.

"Oh," the dark-haired man was quite surprised.

"You guys would be living together?" Gaby exclaimed in real excitement.

"Yeah," confirmed Alan with a broad smile.

"God forbid…" sighed Ingrid who as it turned out was also listening to the conversation.

Fischer stood up and approached La Cour's desk.

"So… we're going?"

Thomas blinked a few times as if he wasn't really convinced.

"Yeah, sure." He stood up abruptly and follow his colleague.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Okay, so here we go," said La Cour opening the door to his flat. He was living in a nice old building with a garden behind it. His apartment was on 2nd floor and Fischer couldn't help wondering if the flat looked as old and noble as the corridor. Well, he didn't mind as long as he had a bed to sleep on. When the door opened, Alan was greeted by the sight of clean white walls and bright interior. The apartment as it turned out was in pretty good shape, apparently it was renovated not long ago. The design somehow didn't surprise him – everything was in modern simple Ikea style that just suited La Cour's personality. It was nice though, nicer than he could hope for.

"Time for grand tour, I guess," stated his colleague with a slight smile upon his lips. He enjoyed Fischer's reaction to his home, the fellow policeman had something in his expression that made him think of a boy unwrapping his Christmas present. He guided Alan through the corridor to the furthest door. He opened them and showed the small room to his friend.

"This is the guest bedroom. Your room now," he simply explained. It was a small room but it had all the essential furniture – quite big and comfy-looking bed, a wardrobe and a small desk by the window.

"Damn," that was the only word that left Fischer's mouth.

"Not satisfied?" La Cour enquired as he watched intensely the quizzical look on the other man's face.

"No! No, no… It's perfect. Wow," Alan said and then barely whispered. "Thank you, man."

Thomas smiled pleased to get such response from his friend.

"Wanna see the rest?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," replied Fischer absentmindedly still enjoying the sight of his new room.

They visited all rooms in La Cour's apartment. They were all in the same clean-cut style and Alan instantly liked the whole spirit of the flat. On the other side of the corridor there was Thomas' bedroom, much bigger than the guest room, but also cozy. There was also a small bathroom with shower and the living room with adjoining kitchen. After the tour, they began to move all the bags from Fischer's car to his bedroom. Living in hotel rooms for quite long now, he learnt to possess only the minimum of things and it turned out that he couldn't fill even a half of the wardrobe with his clothes. He definitely needed more clothes and he would go for shopping as soon as he paid off all debts. And that was in the not-so-near future.

"Okay, I'm done!" he exclaimed from the bathroom were he put his cosmetics. At least he no longer had this awful hair gel that La Cour hated so much. He found Thomas sitting on the couch looking through the files of their ongoing case. He swiftly took the file from his friend's hands.

"No working, we're celebrating," he explained to the confused man.

"We need to work tomorrow," Thomas pointed out.

"A few beers won't do any harm," the man shrugged. "I'll go the shop and you'll pay."

"Funny," said La Cour but stood up to grab his wallet. He handed some money to the fellow policeman.

"Better be quick or I'll fall asleep," as he managed to say that, Fischer nearly run out of the flat. Thomas started to laugh at this childish display. Apparently that was how the life with Alan Fischer would look like. He was quite pleased having someone's in his apartment. He rarely had guests, not to mention women and he missed just having a person to talk to or enjoy a simple mundane things. Fischer was always a person from the team that he related most to, although they were completely different. But somehow La Cour could look beneath the macho look of his colleague and found out that underneath there was a sensitive thoughtful man. Maybe a little childish and hot-headed but always with the best interest in mind. As it turned out, Fischer was a champion of grab-a-beer marathon and it took him no longer than 10 minutes to return with the shopping bag.

"You're asleep?" he asked between heavy breaths.

"No," Thomas chuckled.

They both sat on the far ends of the couch and grabbed beer. It was like when they went to bars during the cases to gossip and share a drink, but much more comfortable and laidback. They could talk without the noises of the overcrowded pub and worrying that someone is listening to their conversation. The more beers they had, the more freely they talked. Alan told him about how he missed being a father and how low he felt living in cheap hotels to be able to pay child support. Thomas nodded although he didn't find the lack of parenthood so hard. He never felt the need of having a child, he was feeling too insecure and unstable himself to be able to raise a child of his own. So he ran again leaving alone a woman who counted on him for the second time in his life. Helen was not furious, rather sad and resigned. He knew she was worried about his mental state and didn't want to push him as she was afraid he could once again break. She didn't want that for their child nor for herself. They didn't parted on bad terms, he promised to pay and she promised to keep him posted as to their daughter's well-being. Thomas wondered sometimes if his special talent didn't took away from him the ability to love.

"So… this vision thing. Does it occur often?" Alan pried.

"No, not really. I don't feel it coming," explained La Cour feeling a little bit uncomfortable.

"But it's always about bad things, right? The things that happened?" he was genuinely curious.

"No. Several time I had this… premonition that something will happen. Small things like what Helen's going to say, or that a red car would pass me on the highway. Stuff," Thomas shrugged taking a sip of his fourth beer.

"Wow. Cool. You're special," stated the short-haired man putting away the empty can.

"Yeah, special…" repeated his colleague with a wry smile.

"Let's make an experiment!" Fischer abruptly stood up and almost flipped. It seemed he had more beers than he remembered. He grabbed La Cour's hand and tugged. His friend stood up and followed him although he did not like the sound of it.

"What exactly do you have in mind?" he asked with the raised brow as Alan opened the door to his bedroom.

"I'd like to know what's gonna happen to me here," he explained to Thomas.

"It really doesn't work like that. I cannot make the vision just appear," he sighed sitting on his friend's bed.

"C'mon, maybe something would come. Like the vision of busty red-head…" La Cour started to laugh at the other's man suggestion. He laid on the bed enjoying the softness of the mattress and closed the eyes. He could easily fall asleep now. And then as he was beginning to feel drowsy, it suddenly came.

_It was dark, he barely could see the room. He was laying on the bed heavily breathing. Was he afraid? Excited? Then he felt the move on the mattress and suddenly a figure hovered above him. He knew that hairstyle and the serious look on the face – it was Fischer. He was naked from his waist up, his muscles were strained as he propelled himself on hands that were placed on both side of La Cour's head. He was also breathing heavily and his expression was hard to read. He was scared and determined at the same time. Then it happened so quickly Thomas couldn't even react. Fischer's mouth was on his own devouring it aggressively. His own excitement was reaching a peak. He opened his mouth and felt the man's tongue slide inside him and it was far too much, his head nearly exploded and he…_

He got up abruptly almost knocking off Fischer who was kneeling beside the bed with the worried look on his face.

"You alright?" he asked with dread in his voice. "I didn't mean this.."

"Alright…" Thomas dismissed him and tried to steady his breaths. This vision was so forceful and real that he needed to swipe the sweat from his forehead.

"Was it bad?" Alan asked in guilt.

"No," La Cour laughed nervously. "Actually, it was you in bed. With someone. It was just real…"

Fischer smiled like a child and patted his friend's back.

"The red-head?"

"Not…" Thomas cleared his throat. "Not sure."

"It's a red-head!" exclaimed short-haired man already lost in his own fantasies.

"I'll call it a night if you don't mind," La Cour excused himself weakly and started leaving the room.

"Yeah, sure," Fischer also stood up and looked as if he sobered up in one moment. "Thank you, La Cour. I mean, for everything."

"No problem," answered the clairvoyant not even turning to look behind.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

La Cour had hard time falling asleep that night. He was processing the events of the evening with the obsessive frequency. What was the vision about? And the most important question – did the vision concern himself or somebody else? Whichever it was, it was still disturbing. Not the vision alone, there was nothing dangerous or alarming about it. It was what it made him feel. He wasn't like that, he knew that with certainty. In his over 40-year-old life he had never been attracted to a man. He didn't even consider it. Still he didn't believe that the word "gay" was even near that story. It was just… He should have been disgusted. And if not (he wasn't a bigot, mind you), he should have just felt indifference towards the incident. But he couldn't forget this feeling, the heartbeat throbbing in his ears, this sweet expectation and torturous arousal once Fischer's mouth descended onto his own. Jesus. Was he really attracted to Alan Fischer, his buddy for over 5 years now, towards whom he didn't feel anything but the friendliness and fondness? He was turning and tossing whole night until he fell into dreamless sleep. He opened his eyes as soon as the alarm-clock went off and although tired he managed to get up. Still in his pajamas he left the room and headed for the kitchen. He heard some clacking of utensils so he curiously followed the source of the sound. He felt his throat and mouth go dry as soon as he entered the room. Fischer was brewing the coffee in the coffee machine and was very focused on his task. He apparently also just left the shower as he still had a towel thrown recklessly over one of his bare shoulders. He was wearing a pajama bottom but without a top and his muscled chest was exposed to the morning sun coming through the kitchen window. After a while he spotted the intruder and smiled widely at what he guessed was shocked expression.

"Yes, I can make us coffee. Here you go," he poured the hot liquid into the cup and placed on the table. Thomas snapped from the trance and headed towards the table to grab his mug.

"I was surprised you got up so early," La Cour explained to hide his embarrassment.

"I had a glorious night," his colleague exclaimed enthusiastically. "You can't even imagine how it was better than sleeping in a hotel room. I feel like I could hug you."

"No need," the forensic raised the hands defensively and laughed nervously.

"You took a run?" enquired Thomas.

"Yeah. And took shower." Fischer sipped his coffee and then added with slight frown. "Is that ok?"

His friend laughed loudly.

"You're paying half the rent and bills. You can do whatever you want."

"So if I invited a few girls and organized a small orgy in your living room, you wouldn't mind?" short-haired man asked innocently, but Thomas knew he was pulling him on.

"Please, one lady at a time," he laughed again and finished his coffee leaving Fischer on his own.

It was only when he left the kitchen that he noticed his hands were slightly shaking. What was going on with his brain? He saw Fischer half-naked many times, they used to train together, so why was he reacting now like it was something unusual? The vision last evening somehow opened a completely unknown territory in his mind and he didn't know what to do. He grabbed clothes from his room and headed for the shower. Fischer was humming some melody under his nose while relaxing by the coffee and it made La Cour feel strangely satisfied with the current living arrangement. His home suddenly felt more cozy and relaxing. Alan apparently organized his things well in the small bathroom taking all empty place he could. It turned out that the man possessed a quite impressive collection of cosmetics and Thomas stopped wondering why women fell for him so easily. He apparently not only cared about his muscles but also about the overall appearance. With curiosity La Cour opened the bottle of perfume and breathed in the scent. Previously he didn't care about the smell but now it made his stomach squeeze with some longing. That was definitely Fischer's smell. He took a brief look at the rest of the cosmetics. With satisfaction he noticed that the grease his colleague used to put in his hair was nowhere to be seen. Since he had his haircut he didn't need it anymore. The policeman fondly smiled at the memory of putting his hand in Fischer's hair with affection only to be met by the unpleasant sticky fluid. He criticized the man then and it wasn't long after that Alan cut his hair short. It certainly made him more tough-looking. La Cour couldn't help but wonder if it was his comment that made Fischer get rid of this awful hairstyle. But of course that was just his wishful thinking. He undressed and stepped into the shower. As the warm water cascaded down his body, his thoughts returned to last evening's events. He shouldn't ponder on that, he was not responsible for his visions, no matter how vivid they were. But he couldn't pretend as if nothing had happened as well. He definitely felt some physical attraction as he saw his friend standing half-naked in the kitchen. Damn, he didn't know where to look and his mouth went suddenly dry. Why hadn't he felt it earlier and only now? Thomas wasn't naïve, he knew he must have had those feelings before but couldn't quite put the words to them. Now when the vision made it clear for him, everything started to fall into place. He always felt some strange magnetism that drew him closer towards the short-haired man. He wasn't a very social person, actually people rather called him awkward when it came to social interactions. So the sudden blooming friendship with Alan was surely something unusual. He sought the company of the man and now finally knew why. He bitterly laughed at his foolishness. He was much too old to make such revelations about his life. At least he was ready to face the problem. The questions was what he was going to do with it. The loud knocking on the door snapped him from his thoughts.

"Sorry to disturb, but we need to leave soon. I have an interview," shouted Fischer from behind the closed door.

"Sure, I'm finishing!" replied Thomas and turned off the shower. He needed to focus on the case. There would always be time to sort out his messy personal life later.


	5. Chapter 5

They arrived at work in two separate cars. It was slightly weird but they both needed to take care of different issues during this case and be as mobile as they could. They were a bit late for the meeting and earned a stern look from Ingrid as they came in.

"Is it going to be like that always?" she asked with faked irritation.

"You can't imagine how long La Cour's taking a shower," Fischer answered with wide grin giving an eye to Gaby who smiled under her nose.

"Oi, my apartment, my shower," protested Thomas in mocked seriousness.

Gaby handed them both coffees smiling sweetly.

"Any news during the night?" Alan finally asked with real interest.

"The police didn't find the boy's bag. Still no luck with the witnesses," Ingrid summed up.

"Boysen've just sent the autopsy report," informed IP with the documents in his hand that he just pulled out of the fax machine. "The cause of death was suffocation. Most probably someone put a plastic bag over his head. No signs of penetration although there is some abrasion and reddening on his penis. It's possible that it's from the forceful fellatio but no signs of saliva was found. He was probably cleaned after the act." IP finished reading the report and there was a visible disgust on his face. Fischer closed his eyes for a moment but under the eyelids he just saw the image of his own son, brutally violated and threw out in a dirty ditch like garbage. He clenched his fists and opened his eyes. It wasn't his son that was dead but he had to make sure that the monster behind this was caught and sentenced.

"OK, I've got a date with the drunkard," he finished his coffee in one sip and dashed out of the van. Thomas' eyes followed his movements and for a while he was just staring at the door behind which his colleague disappeared. He didn't hear Ingrid who was apparently talking to him.

"La Cour… La Cour!" finally she got his attention. "You ok?"

"Yeah," the man shook his head dismissively. "Just tired."

"First boys' night out, huh?" IP joked.

"No, this case is just… tiring," Thomas explained and he didn't need to say more as they all felt the same way. "I'm going to the nursery. I would follow the boy's usual route back home."

"I'll tag along," offered Ingrid. "I want to speak to the nursery's director myself. IP," she referred to the older man. "Check the police records. I want to know if they had any pedophiles in the area, any cases of child abuse, anything."

"On my way," IP nearly saluted on this order.

"C'mon, La Cour," Ingrid turned to leave the office.

The man obediently followed her but knew they were taking his car anyway. He disarmed the alarm and they got in.

"Are you ok to drive?" Ingrid asked with the concern seeing his tiredness.

"I'm just a bit underslept. I swear I had just 2 beers yesterday and I'm as sober as a newborn," he forced himself to smile but it came out quite weak. He started the engine and moved. For some time they were quiet, lost in their own thoughts. His boss was apparently very moved by the case and he was not surprised by it. However, he himself seemed more bothered by his recent discovery than the murder of a child. That was not right. His head was a mess right now and it had nothing to do with the booze or the lack of sleep. His thoughts were tangled and for the sake of this case, he just needed to do something.

"How is living with Fischer going?" the woman suddenly asked him as if she was reading his mind.

He didn't bat an eye though, the ability to pretend was one of his big assets.

"We just started sharing the flat yesterday!" he laughed bitterly.

"Yeah, but… that was quite unexpected. I know you are on good terms and so on, but well…" Ingrid tried to be gentle with words. "You just seem so different. Fischer's a good boy, but hot-headed and stubborn. And you are… well, more mature, closed, calm. I'm just worried he may get on your nerves quickly."

"It didn't happen for all those years, Ingrid," Thomas pointed out. "I'm really happy to have someone to talk to. A friend. Sometimes it becomes… too empty."

The red-head woman was contemplating his words and he knew he managed to convince her.

"You're right, sorry," Ingrid finally said. "You both would be watching over each other."

The man suddenly felt weird when someone else stated the obvious to him. He almost thought that he was the only one seeing how close he and Fischer were. But that was not true – the whole team saw that, heavens know why, they clicked together. Maybe even more than they were willing to admit. La Cour felt himself blush at the sudden turn of his thoughts and that embarrassed him. He didn't want to show this side of his nature to the boss.

"Erm… La Cour?" Ingrid spoke up hiding her smile. "Wasn't that just our nursery?" she pointed out of the window. That made Thomas woke up from his daydreaming.

"Shit!" he exclaimed and stopped the car to perform U-Haul. They stopped on a small parking place before the colorful building. The place was not far from the main road and on one side of the nursery there was a wall of trees that grew further into the forest. They didn't enter the building immediately but first took a look at the sight before them.

"Nice place for children," stated Ingrid.

"Was the forest searched?" asked La Cour looking at the trees that disappeared in darkness.

"They are still checking. It seems the woods grows further and cover quite vast plot of land. However, the teacher claims that Michael went the other side towards his home."

It was fall so the playground looked rather grim. The leaves were covering most of the lawn and the equipment was standing moist from the morning dew. Nonetheless, Ingrid was right and it was indeed a nice place for children to spend their time.

"I'm going in," his boss informed him zipping her jacket all the way up as it was quite chilly outside. "What about you?"

"I'm going to have a look around the nursery and then follow the path to Prices' house," Thomas explained already closely regarding his surroundings. "I'd be back for you as soon as I'm finished."

Ingrid nodded and went into the direction of the entrance. Thomas felt a shiver down his spine from the cold wind but didn't zip his jacket. He needed a bit of chill to keep him focused. At the parking lot there were few cars belonging most probably to the employees. He briefly looked at them in search of any clue. If the murderer threw the boy out in the ditch, he needed the car. Unfortunately, a body of a boy would fit any trunk so there was not much he could judge by the cars' models. He encircled the building closely looking for spots that a potential murderer could watch the child from. The forest was a tempting idea but nothing pointed at that direction so far. Finally, he followed the boy's path home hoping to find out anything. The route was indeed a short one. After leaving the parking lot, a boy needed to turn into a smaller road with the pavement on both sides and the alley of family houses. He was probably going on the left side to avoid crossing the road. The pavement on both side was guarded from the houses by walls or fends. He passed a small grocery on his way and made a mental note to go there and ask some questions. He almost reached the child's house when suddenly his eyesight blurred. He propped himself on the wall next to him and allowed the vision to come to him. In the dream-like image he saw a black car driving along the road. On the passenger seat he saw Michael smiling cheerfully and eating a candy bar. The car just passed slowly down the street and his vision ended. He was breathing heavily and felt like puking. The sweat was running down his face. So now he was sure that the boy knew his kidnapper. He needed to remember the car but it was hard to focus on details. The only certain thing was the black color of the vehicle. After the break, he reached the Prices' house but didn't go in. He just took a look at the yard in front of the house and spotted two cars parked there. One was a metallic hatchback while the other was a small dark blue city car. The blue color was almost black in the shadow, but the part of the roof that was lit by the sunlight gave the beautiful navy shade. La Cour was sure they weren't the cars he was looking for. He turned back and followed the same route as before. On his way back he paid a visit to the small grocery. At this time there weren't many customers so he pushed his way among the vegetables and fruits to the cash desk. An older man wearing slightly dirty apron was just packing the shopping bag of an elderly lady. He waited for the woman to pay and take her merchandise.

"How can I help you?" the man asked with a smile.

Thomas waved his badge so the man could read it.

"I want to ask if you knew a boy, Michael Price. He was going past your shop every day from his nursery," La Cour explained.

The man nervously rubbed his hands on the apron.

"Of course I knew him. Poor boy," he whispered apparently trying not to burst in tears. "That stupid parent of his. Just thinking about the money…"

"Did you see him on Monday, 11 October?" Thomas enquired.

"The day he disappeared? No. No, I didn't see him," the shop-keeper was thinking hard about that day. "I was usually watching out of the window if he's coming home. Just to make sure, you know. If the parents cannot watch him, that was the least I could do. He sometimes did the shopping here on his way back. But on some days I didn't see him coming. I guessed his parents picked him up then but now that I think of it, that's hard to believe with them being so busy…"

Thomas listened carefully to the man's statement.

"Have you seen a black car riding this road on Monday?" The policeman asked the final question.

The man laughed.

"I don't keep track of all the cars here, really," he explained.

"OK. Thank you," La Cour turned towards the exit.

"Make sure to catch that monster!" the man shouted after him.

Thomas nodded, more likely to himself than to the man who couldn't see him and left the shop. He made his way back to the parking lot in front of the nursery. The wind seemed more strong after this short walk and there were dark clouds gathering on the sky. It would start raining soon and Thomas didn't feel like getting wet. However, before getting Ingrid he carefully examined all the parked cars once again. He found one black car and decided to take a look. He went around the vehicle searching for some clue and looked inside through the window. There was nothing unexpected or suspicious there, he wasn't even sure what he hoped to find. It was worth a try though. He quickly went in the building. Ingrid was talking quietly with an older woman in the corridor. He approached both women.

"Hello, I'm Thomas La Cour" he introduced himself to the stranger.

"Hello, Anne Holm, the director," she greeted him. She looked very friendly and trustworthy as far as Thomas could judge. But behind the pleasant smile he gave him, she seemed to be haunted by the recent events. Her eyes were red and sore as if she was crying a lot lately.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't have anything to add. Of course, I'll help as much as I can," she turned to Ingrid this time apparently finishing their conversation.

"Sorry, but who owns a black car in the parking lot?" the policeman interrupted.

The director seemed taken aback by his question but he was used to catch people by surprise by his apparently unimportant questions.

"Black car?" she thought for a moment. "I think that would be Ms. Adams'. Michael was in her group." She suddenly connected two facts and there was a look of horror on her face. "Why do you ask? Is it connected to the murder? Did you find something?"

"No, please relax," Thomas tried to calm the older woman down. "We examine all the traces. It may really be nothing. No need to worry."

The director relaxed visibly and excused herself with her duties. Ingrid watched him closely waiting for some kind of explanation. La Cour started walking towards the exit so the woman followed him.

"Black car?" she enquired.

"I just had… I had this vision," he pinched the base of his nose feeling like he was about to have a headache. The rain had just started so they run to the vehicle to avoid getting wet. Inside the car Ingrid asked about his findings.

"I just saw the boy riding a black car as a passenger. He didn't seem frightened , like he knew the person he was with. But… that's just a vision. Hard to use in a court," he bitterly joked but Ingrid didn't smile. "I enquired a shopkeeper along the way. He knew the boy, made a habit of watching him pass his shop. But he didn't see the boy on Monday. He also said that there were days when Michael was not passing his shop and suspected the parents picked him up. I think that's worth checking. Maybe he strayed sometimes from his path."

His boss nodded pleased that they had at least something to examine in this case. The worst thing in their job was to wait for more clues or for the move of the perpetrator. It made them feel almost useless.

"The director didn't have much to say. She showed me around the premises. I asked her for the files of all parents and employees - maybe we would find something in the database."

La Cour nodded also glad they could do something to move the case on. He started the engine and drove them to their mobile office. It was raining quite hard when they pulled in front of the van. He almost succeeded to forget of the events that haunted him since the last evening but as soon as he saw Fischer's car and the man sitting in the vehicle and smoking, he just felt a stir inside him. Alan saw them too and raised his hand in a greeting gesture, not pulling a cigarette out of his mouth. La Cour unconsciously smiled and realized he had this funny feeling inside his guts. He knew he was too old for that, feeling like a teenager just didn't suit him. Fortunately, Ingrid didn't spotted his goofy smile because as soon as they stopped she stepped out of the car and run inside the office. Thomas pulled down the window on his side so he was facing the open window of Fischer's car.

"You should give up if it's so troublesome," he teased the man.

"I may not be allowed to smoke in your car but hands off my own vehicle!" mumbled Alan still with the cig between his lips. La Cour enjoyed their teasing, it somehow enabled himself to distance from the outer world.

"Going in?" finally asked Thomas when his colleague threw the fag out of the window.

"Yeah, let's race," Fischer suggested seriously and dashed out of the car.

Thomas didn't stand a chance but entered only seconds after his younger teammate.

"That was cheating," he stated heavily breathing.

"That was weak condition, old cowboy," Alan riposted with a wide smile and managed to made everyone in the room smirk.

"All right, let's look what we have," Ingrid started and stood before the lit panel. "We went to the nursery with La Cour. The director was not very helpful but agreed to send us files of all the employees and parents. Gaby, can you run it in our databases and see if you can find anything?"

The blonde haired woman nodded and started typing on her laptop.

"La Cour had a vision – the boy was driving as a passenger in a black car with somebody he knew. We know better than to ignore La Cour's gift so let's focus on the black car. Also, the shopkeeper of a grocery near Prices' house stated that sometimes he didn't see the boy passing his shop and thought that the parents picked him up. Let's check that. IP?" she offered the floor to the man with the moustache.

"Yes, I spent the whole morning in the police headquarters looking for any earlier cases of child abuse," he started. "I found some names but most of them didn't fit the crime scene. But we found some minor offenders who might have felt more boldly this time. We are checking if there's any connection to the child. Especially, if La Cour's thinking that it was no stranger…"

Ingird nodded and shift her gaze to Fischer who was swinging on his chair.

"I spent a lovely morning with the drunkard who was barely able to make one coherent sentence," he sighed and stabilized himself on the ground. "Nonetheless, Mr. John Fry, though in shock, remembers surprisingly many details from that night. He left the pub where he was drinking with his buddies at around 2 p.m. As he stated, he promised his wife to be home before the dawn. He was late for the night bus so he decided to go on feet. Together with the wife they are living on the outskirts. There weren't many cars passing him on the road as he was walking but he didn't pay attention to them, so no luck with the murderer's car. At some point, he missed his step and fell down into the ditch. He landed face down on something soft," he tried to hide the disgust on his face. "As you imagine, it was Michael's body. He said he had been stupefied. The boy had a blue garbage plastic bag over his head and his body was half covered with leaves and sticks as if someone had been trying to hide the body. After the initial shock, he removed the bag from the child's head and saw Michael's face. At that point the man realized that he just found the dead body and frantically started to climb out of the ditch. He said he had a panic attack and couldn't think of anything else but running the middle of the road waving his hands and crying for help. Since this fragment of the road was on quite secluded area with the forest on both sides, it was a miracle that he managed to stop a police car before getting killed by any other vehicle. The rest of the story is in the police acts. We have no reason not to believe Mr. Fry's statement. He has an alibi and is willing to help," Fischer wrapped up his story and added, "In half an hour I have an interview with Kate Adams, Michael's teacher. Let's hope she would be more helpful."

"I'd like to be present," La Cour suddenly said.

Alan quirked his brow in puzzlement.

"No problem. Any particular reason?" he enquired.

"Ms. Adams has a black car. It may fit my vision. I'd like to ask her about it," Thomas explained shifting on his chair.

"OK, that's settled then," Ingrid summed up and everyone turned to their tasks.

Fischer stood up and stretched.

"Care to smoke in my car before the questioning?" the younger man asked La Cour.

Thomas was torn by this question. Partially, he felt like he should put a distance between them after what had happened yesterday. On the other side, now he yearned Fischer's presence more and more. He surely was overthinking the whole affair.

"Earth to La Cour?" Alan was still waiting for his reply.

"Sure," Thomas muttered and stood up to join his colleague in the run to his car to avoid getting completely soaked.


	6. Chapter 6

After a quick run they found themselves in Fischer's car. Alan shook the droplets of water from his hair by running a hand through it. His short hairstyle had apparent advantage in such weather. La Cour brought an umbrella as he refused to get soaked before the interview. Fischer lowered the window on his side and lit the cigarette. A well-known smell of a cheap brand hit Thomas' nostrils. He didn't mind though, had a lot of time to get used to it as he did to his teammate. These cigarettes and Fischer were somehow connected and now he even enjoyed the unpleasant odor they gave.

"So, how are you feeling?" Alan asked after a short moment of silence.

Thomas started laughing.

"Suddenly everyone is concerned on my well-being," he commented.

His colleague fixed his stare on him and Thomas knew Alan was sincerely worried.

"Fine. Tired," he replied shortly.

Fischer took another drag of the cigarette.

"Bullshit," he summarized. "I know the visions make you a wreck. I've seen it yesterday."

Thomas felt his throat tightening at the mention of the previous evening.

"All right. Today I nearly puked on my shoes and passed out. Happy?" La Cour admitted.

Alan who was watching his mate all the time, now lowered his gaze as if he was embarrassed. That was ridiculous though, as he was not responsible for La Cour's state of mind.

"Sorry," the short-haired man finally said and threw the fag out of the window.

"That's hardly your fault," Thomas stated with a tight smile.

"No, I mean for yesterday," Allan explained and continued. "I didn't know that you react that way."

La Cour once again felt the panic rise within him. The proximity of the object of his newly found fantasies didn't help. In one moment it became very hot in the vehicle in spite of the open window and the gust of winds and the drops of rain that were coming through it.

"It wasn't that bad," he managed to utter quietly.

Fischer was staring at the drops of rain falling down the front window. He looked as if he was weighing his options. Suddenly he smiled widely and turned his head to Thomas.

"You joking? You freaked out after the vision like you'd have seen my naked ass!" his eyes were glowering with good humor and La Cour couldn't help but reciprocate the smile. Never mind that Fischer's guess almost stroke home, the younger man always knew how to lighten up the mood.

"No, don't deny, my firm buttocks made you uneasy," Alan made a theatrical face of despair. "To atone for your discomfort, today's beer is on me."

Thomas laughed truthfully this time.

"You're really impossible…" he wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes.

"That's why all the people love me. Except for my wife," he made a bitter remark.

La Cour knew better than laugh at that. Although his colleague meant it as a joke, he knew there was some truth and regret behind those words. He also suspected that it wasn't that Fischer's wife didn't love him, it was rather Fischer who for some reason couldn't make the commitment. For all his love for the son, he didn't seem to enjoy the "cage" of such a serious relationship. His musings were stopped as soon as he spotted a black car pulling on the parking lot near their office. Alan saw it as well and they both watched in silence the female silhouette behind the steering wheel. The woman got out of the car and quickly took out the umbrella to avoid the aggressive drops of water pouring from the sky. She closed her car and followed to their mobile office.

"Guess our witness is here," said Fischer pulling up the window on his side and stepping out of the car. Thomas did the same and joined his friend in the chase to the office. Once they were within the safety walls of the vehicle, Fischer turned around and activated the alarm. Ingrid didn't even look up from the papers on her desk.

"I invited Ms. Adams to the interrogation room. Gaby already offered her coffee but she refused," their boss explained.

"Thanks," muttered Fischer slightly embarrassed. He looked at La Cour who just motioned his head in the direction of the room. Both men straightened their clothes and entered the space where the woman was waiting.

"Inspector Alan Fischer, this is Inspector Thomas La Cour," he introduced himself and his partner. "Thank you for coming."

"No problem. I really want to help," answered the woman immediately.

Ms. Jenny Adams was a pleasant looking woman in her mid-thirties. She was slim and small, her ebony hair was pulled tightly into a ponytail and she was dressed in the neat dark dress. She had a polite smile on her face, but there were dark marks under her eyes indicating that she hadn't been sleeping well lately. Probably all the staff from the nursery had hard time these days, the murder of a child was a big issue.

"We would like to ask you about Michael and the day he was kidnapped. Are you ok with it?" Fischer began with the courtesy that he always possessed when interrogating females.

"I've already answered so many questions that it hardly bothers me," she explained with the heavy sigh.

"Can you tell me a bit about Michael? How he behaved, what was his relation with other kids and staff?"

"Oh, he was an angel," Ms. Adams smiled at this thought. "I mean, he was very calm and mature for his age. Never fought or quarreled. He preferred solitude than playing with peers. When you gave him blocks or paper and crayons, he could sit alone for hours. He was bored with other children but adored adults. That's why he got on well with all employees in the nursery."

"Do you mean he was prone to trust adults?" Fischer questioned.

"Yes," Ms. Adams agreed with him. "But he was not gullible. He knew the basic steps when dealing with strangers. He was just… easier to talk to than his peers."

"Do you remember anyone suspicious near the nursery?" Alan asked rocking on his chair. He shot a glance towards La Cour who seemed to listen carefully what was going on.

"Not really. There are always parents and family members nearby, nursery stuff, but I can't think of anyone suspicious. Many strangers stops on our parking lot to visit the market on the other side of the road so it's really hard to tell."

"Did any particular thing happen on Monday when Michael disappeared?"

"What do you mean?" the teacher shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Did you happen to see anything odd? Maybe Michael talked to someone? Any conflicts? Quarrels?" Fischer explained.

"No, sorry," the black-haired woman shook her head. "It was a usual day. Michael played most of the times alone. All the parents picked up their children so he decided it was his time to say goodbye. As usual, I saw him to the door and watched until he disappeared behind the corner."

The policeman bowed his head processing the information. He was not sure what to ask next. The case so far didn't have any peculiarities that he could refer to.

"Did Michael always walk home alone?" La Cour finally asked with sharpness in his voice as he was waiting to ask the question from the beginning.

"Yes. Once or twice his grandma picked him up but only because she was visiting the family. Otherwise, he was walking alone," Ms. Adams elaborated.

"Didn't his parents pick him up from time to time by car?" Thomas didn't give up.

"No, never," the woman shook her head and put a unruly strand of hair behind her ear. "They always work late."

"That's curious," the policeman paused. "I've talked to the shopkeeper near the nursery and he claimed that sometimes the boy didn't come home on feet."

The nursery teacher raised a questioning brow at the mysterious witness but knew better than to pry on this issue.

"All right, I ought to be more specific," she admitted and cleared her throat. "From time to time I drove Michael home." "

"With the consent of his parents , of course," she added quickly.

La Cour and Fischer shared looks and Alan rubbed his nose with nervous gesture.

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" he asked.

"I don't know how it's relevant," the woman took a defensive pose. "It's not that I drove him home that day he went missing."

"Didn't you?" Thomas questioned.

"No," Ms. Adams was up to his challenge. "Michael left last and I watched him standing on the stairs. That's the last time I saw him."

La Cour tried to read the expression from the teacher's face but she looked sincerely moved. Either she was telling the truth or was a perfect liar.

"You wouldn't mind if our experts take a look at your car?" Fischer supported his friend.

"Does it mean you would take it away?" Ms. Adams looked bothered. "I need to drive to work."

"It wouldn't take much time, 2 days at most," Alan explained hoping they wouldn't have to get the order to be able to examine the car. The woman hesitated for a moment.

"All right. If that would help the case," she said slowly. "I'll ask someone for a lift."

"It's pouring outside, I can drive you home, if you'd like," a younger policeman offered.

"Thank you," Jenny smiled without emotion. "Is that everything?"

Thomas and Alan looked at each other but it seemed the interview was over.

"Yes, thank you very much for your cooperation," La Cour stood up and gathered files laying on the desk before him. Fischer as always was painfully courteous and offered the coat to the lady. She muttered her thanks but seemed to be embarrassed by this situation. La Cour could swear that she saw the woman turn every shade of red and it made him suddenly uncomfortable. He felt a tight knot in his stomach seeing as the charm of his colleague worked on the stranger. Alan on the other hand looked oblivious to the woman's feelings and with a forced smile asked her out to his car. Thomas followed them both with his eyes until they disappeared behind the door of the office.

"She doesn't seem like the murderer type," Ingrid pointed out as she approached him.

"Have you watched the interrogation?"

"Do you think she was lying?" his boss pressed for information.

The policeman would wish he had a simple answer to this question but, to be honest, he was not sure what he thought. His intuition whispered to him that there was something suspicious in the woman, but at the same he wasn't able to completely focus on the case. Maybe he was just prejudiced against the teacher after he saw her feminine reaction to Fischer. Maybe he wished he was allowed to feel the same.

"I'm not sure yet," he admitted. "I'll call the local police and ask them to take the car for examination."

Ingrid just nodded and left him to make a call. He ordered the experts to come and get the car as soon as possible. As suspected, the results of the examination would take 2 days so he wasn't sure what line of investigation he could apply now. He was tired and developing severe headache. He finally stood up and took his coat.

"I'm going home. Call me if you have anything," he informed Ingrid who was leaning over some reports. She barely noticed his departure. La Cour got in his car and drove home. On his way back he popped in the supermarket nearby for quick shopping. Such cases always took away his appetite but he reminded himself that he needed strength to catch the bastard. Not too keen on cooking anything, he bought some soup in can. For a moment he wondered if Fischer intended to eat together with him. Then he got frustrated. How could he stop thinking obsessively about his friend? He got back home before Fischer and was glad for the moment of solitude. He managed to heat the soup and make himself another coffee before his flat mate returned. Alan was soaking wet but didn't seem to mind. He took off his leather jacket and boots and made it straight to the kitchen where his colleague relaxed over a hot pot of coffee. He put the shopping bag he carried on the counter and La Cour didn't need to ask what was inside as the familiar sound of glass bottles clacking together could be heard. Thomas however didn't pay as much attention to the shopping as he did to his friend. Alan looked absolutely adorable with the raindrops streaming down his face and wet trousers glued to his muscled legs. He was a poster boy for many girls and Thomas, with wry humor, concluded that the man became also a poster boy for him.

"I left the umbrella in the car and needed to visit the market," Fischer explained turning around to face his interlocutor.

"Yeah, I guessed," La Cour was slightly embarrassed by the line of his thoughts, but couldn't help admiring the view before him anyway.

"I'll change and we can grab a beer. If you want," he looked sheepish which only made Thomas more desperate for him.

"Have you eaten?" the older policeman enquired after his mate left the kitchen.

"Yeah! I grabbed a hot-dog on my way!" the voice of his colleague can be heard from behind the door of his bedroom. It took him some time to get changed and washed. By that time La Cour had finished his coffee and made himself comfortable on the couch. Alan changed into his usual sportswear that he liked to wear at home. It was rather chilly so he zipped up his blouse all the way up to his chin while Thomas was perfectly comfortable with the T-shirt. The short-haired man picked two bottles, opened them and handed one to La Cour who accepted the beer with a smile.

"Would it be our daily habit now?" Thomas asked raising his eyebrow. "No wonder you have no money."

"Shut up," Fischer also smiled with a broad-wide smile showing his teeth. "I drink when I need."

Thomas bowed his head in understanding and became serious. He knew his friend liked to cover all his emotions behind a silly smile and few jokes, but he felt that the man was really moved.

"This case. It shook you," he simply stated.

Alan dropped the pretense. He took a swig of his beer and suddenly became interested in the etiquette.

"It could have be my son, you know. I keep thinking that all the time," he admitted quietly.

"Your son would not walk home alone at such age," his colleague stressed.

"If not for my wife, he would," Alan looked up at his mate and continued. "I'm a cop. I would not be able to be for him all the time."

"That doesn't mean you don't care."

"But he might have been that boy, La Cour."

Thomas knew better than to argue with his friend when he was in such sour mood. Especially that he believed Fischer was partially right on that – they were not the best parents. He knew Alan tried and struggled, but couldn't help disappearing on a case for weeks, no matter how much he loved his son. Still, he was far more better than Thomas himself who just ran away from his child. He should regret it, should try to make up for his absence, but he just didn't feel like a parent at all. He felt strangely indifferent and it sometimes scared him. Although he was the one in the team trying to understand criminals, to get into their heads, to have the strange visions, he himself was almost wiped out from emotions. Alan was a lot more compassionate.

"Do you suspect the teacher?" Fischer suddenly asked finishing his beer and taking another one.

"I don't know. We just have my crazy vision and her black car," he answered sincerely.

"She didn't strike me as a murderer type," the short-haired man stated.

La Cour didn't reply to that and merely nodded. He also didn't feel any viciousness from the woman, but it could mean nothing. In their careers they had encountered many "normal" people who turned out to be the perpetrators. It was somehow sad to know that everyone can be a cold-blood killer but accepting that was part of their job. They drank in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Fischer was fast with his beer and when Thomas finished his first drink, the man already was in halfway of his third.

"I'll turn on the TV, okay?" the older policeman asked his colleague and pushed the button on the remote.

Alan didn't protest and soon they found themselves mindlessly watching an American slasher movie. It may not have been the wisest choice as they already had so much grief on their minds but the silliness of the production was a little relaxing. Thomas sipped his beer slowly not really feeling like getting pissed. Fischer on the other hand was drinking hard like he was trying to make himself numb and, although his eyes were constantly focused on the TV screen, his mind was miles away.

"I'm gonna take a leak," Thomas excused himself and stood up.

"No need to be explicit," his friend mumbled and just that indicated how many beers he had.

La Cour left the room and headed toward bathroom. The cases like this one, with no witnesses, no point of reference and an awful murder were the worst for everyone. Of course, they were the special unit for such investigations specifically, but they were also normal people. With human emotions and imagination. They would be better working like machines, of course, but compassion also took great part in their job. Thomas almost wished he could be a machine. He took care of his business and washed hands. The face that looked at him from the mirror looked quite miserable. The lack of sleep on the night before was showing. Or maybe it was the sign of overthinking. He splashed cold water on his face and just then he spotted a wet towel hanging from the drying rack. Without thinking his hands reached for the cloth. It was not one of his towels, this one was almost new and didn't match any set in La Cour's house. Before he understood what he was doing he snuggled his face into the fluffy material. There was a familiar musky scent to it and the man breathed in this intoxicating essence. He knew this was wrong but he was too vulnerable this evening to care. The blood stirred in his vessels and once again he got back to the vision that was hunting him. The naked torso of Fischer hovering over him, the feeling of helplessness and extreme wanting and finally the moment this harsh lips descended on his own. He suddenly jerked away from the towel and nearly fell out of the bathroom in panic. He was breathing heavily and needed to prop himself on the wall. He shouldn't have these thoughts, not now, not in the middle of the investigation. He staggered to the living room and calmed himself before entering. It seemed that the movie had just finished and there were credits on the screen. However, Fischer was no longer watching the TV. His head fell on the headrest of the couch and the regular breathing suggested that he was fast asleep. Thomas smiled under his nose and got closer to turn off the TV. Without the flickering screen the living room was almost dark except for the dim light of the street lamp that was coming from behind the window. La Cour turned to his friend contemplating if he should wake the man or let him be. He watched the relaxed face of his colleague, the same face that he was fantasizing about just minutes ago. His dry lips was slightly parted as he breathed out small portion of air. If awake Fischer looked pleasantly and cute, asleep Fischer was beyond adorable. None of the criminals they caught together would ever know how peaceful and amiable could their captor look. Thomas couldn't help himself and his hands hovered over the short hair of the man but not quite touching them. He had a rare moment in which he could memorize this face – brows, cheeks, nose, eyes. He tried to imprint the image in his memory. He bowed over Alan with the intention of waking him up but instead of that he closed the distance to his mouth. He surprised himself with the kiss as he didn't plan on that. It seemed that his body on the brink of the exhaustion however had other things in mind than simply letting the man go. As his lips touched Fischer's mouth, his mind went suddenly blank for a second. And then it bombarded him with million thoughts at the same time. The kiss was soft and brief, finishing as quickly as it started. La Cour was dumbstruck as he pulled himself away from the other man. Alan's lips tasted mostly like beer he had just gulped down, but for the clairvoyant it tasted like everything he liked – rain and earth and sun and sugar. He blinked in an effort to shook himself out of this spell and to his utmost horror he realized that Fischer's eyes were no longer closed but fixed on him. Thomas, startled, stumbled and fell on his back. He didn't know what to say for his defense, all the coherent excuses left his head so he just stared hard at his friend.

"You kissed me," Fischer mumbled in half-sleep and it was hard to guess if he was infuriated or not.

"Yes," La Cour whispered afraid to raise his voice.

He waited. He waited for any answer, shouting, harsh words or spiteful remarks. He was ready to take them all. At least he couldn't be thrown out of the house as this was his own flat. But things could go unpleasant and he was ready. However, in spite of all his doubts and insecurities, Fischer smiled. It was a sleepy friendly smile like he was still dreaming and didn't realize this was reality. Soon his smile faded and his eyes closed and he went to sleep once again. Thomas still sat staring at the man in front of him and trying to comprehend what had just happened. When Fischer didn't wake up for some time, he stood up on shaky legs and nearly run into his room. He didn't want to think about it, he simply couldn't afford one more sleepless night. Although as he lay down on his bed staring at the ceiling above and his mind raced, he knew he would not sleep much again.


End file.
